


Necessary

by Vashti (tvashti)



Series: SPS [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: August 2018 TwistedShorts Ficathon, Buffy-Speak, Community: twistedshorts, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Female Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hospitals, Secret Identity, what secret identity?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvashti/pseuds/Vashti
Summary: Buffy and Mercy have an unexpectedly frank chat.  But in Buffy-speak, so, y’know…





	Necessary

**Author's Note:**

> Set before the Mercy Thompson books, and AU after Buffy episode "New Moon Rising".
> 
> Written for the 2018 August FAD for livejournal, in the midst of my annual August craziness. I’ve reviewed and edited for clarity, but it is otherwise largely unchanged. If you see something that I missed, please mention it in the comments. :D

Buffy caught the eye of the teenage girl who was "passing by" Oz's room for the fifth time in an hour. With a come-thisaway gesture, Buffy beckoned the girl into the room. "So I hear you're not the Marrok," she said from her seat besides Oz’s bed as the girl settled herself against the doorframe.

The girl laughed. And laughed and laughed. And then she laughed some more.

Buffy made a face. "I didn't realize I was making a funny. Usually I know before I start."

The girl flapped her hands at Buffy as she worked herself down. It took a solid sixty seconds. “I am definitely not the Marrok,” she said, managing to stifle the worst of her giggles. 

“Oh, so the Marrok’s your dad. That must be—” Buffy cut herself off at the face the girl was pulling. “Now what did I say?”

“Bran is definitely not my dad.”

Buffy eyed her skeptically. “Sure about that?”

The girl huffed hard enough to float the long black wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “Da—Darn sure. Bran, the Marrok, is my…guardian, custodian, jailer, authority figure. But dad? Not in this plane of existence.”

Still eyeing the girl skeptically, Buffy mused, "I dunno. I mean not that I know you guys or have seen, like, more than a minute of how you are together, but Bran with you kinda reminds me of Giles with me.” She pondered for a moment, then added, “Without the tweed and the glasses and the going gray before his time. Otherwise, yeah, there’s definite wavelengthiness there.”

"Who's Giles?" the girl asked after she'd mostly parsed Buffy’s words.

"My first– second Watcher. And my dad figure and friend and mentor and co-signatory on way too many things…and sorta kinda my boss?” Buffy paused to think on that last. She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Eh… Depends on the day. And how boss-y I’m feeling.”

“Bossy?”

“No, boss-y,” Buffy said, emphasizing the long E-sound at the end.

“Ooookay.” 

The girl looked at Buffy and Buffy looked at the girl. They dissolved into giggles. “You know you’re weird, right?” the girl said.

Buffy shrugged. “It’s taken awhile, but I’ve come to accept it. So what’s your name? I mean I could just keep calling you The Little Powerhouse Who’s Not the Marrok in my head, but that’s kinda unwieldy even in its abbreviated form. I mean, c’mon, the TLPWNTM? Way too long.”

“Actually…” The girl eased her way beyond the doorframe to a chair along the wall. “It would be LPWNM. You wouldn’t include the the’s.”

“Still too long.” Buffy wrinkled her nose playfully, an air of expectation around her.

The girl huffed dramatically, but her smile said it was mostly for show. “Okay. My name’s Mercedes, but everyone calls me Mercy.”

“Cool! My name’s Buffy, but please call me Anne.”

Mercy’s wrinkled her nose in legitimate confusion. “Isn’t Buffy the name of the head Vampire Slayer?”

“Uh huh.”

“So doesn’t make you, like, _the_ Vampire Slayer? Capital V, capital S?”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

Mercy rolled her eyes. “Either you are or you aren’t.”

“Eh…” Buffy wiggled a hand back and forth. “It’s a little more slip-slidey than that.”

Shaking her head, Mercy said, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“And that’s why I asked you to call me Anne.”

“I don’t get it.”

“See, I’m not here on Buffy the Vampire Slayer business, because then I’d have to be Demanding Girl, and there’d swords and the scythe and witches – and everyone knows how your dad figure feels about witches.”

“He’s not my dad figure,” Mercy said sourly.

Buffy eyed her skeptically for a minute, then shrugged. “Okay. 

“Anyway, so long story long, I’m here on anxious girlfriend business, not anxious slayer business. Might look the same, but they’re actually two totally different businesses, hence the name change. Capiche.”

“Uh, sure?”

“She gets easier to understand with time,” came a weak voice from the bed.

Buffy and Mercy’s attention was immediately on Oz, awake for the first time since before he’d been brought down from the mountain. Buffy jumped to her feet. “Oz! Oh thank God!”

“Hey, Buff.”

Approaching him carefully, she said, “I'd punch you if you weren't already in traction."

"Am I?"

"Close enough." Buffy leaned over to hug him but by some unknown signal stopped and took his free hand instead. Holding it in both of her own, she rubbed it across her cheek.

"Wrong species, Buff." She shushed him and he laughed softly. "Who's the girl?" he asked next.

Buffy stopped to glance back at Mercy. "Oh, hey. Sorry. This is Mercy. She's the Marrok's--"

"Ward," Mercy interjected for herself.

"Or something like that."

Mercy scowled. "It's exactly like that."

Oz squeezed Buffy's hand to the best of his ability. "It's truth she believes."

Now Buffy scowled, but it dissolved almost as quickly as it had come to her face. "I know you're not fine but I keep wanting to ask you if you're fine and I kinda wanna climb in there with you."

"Let my hand go and I can pat you in."

Buffy immediately dropped it, and Oz slowly, carefully patted the free space next to him on the bed. A full body shudder went through Buffy so that she ended up holding herself instead of climbing onto the bed. "You almost died."

"You have died." Oz patted the bed again.

Buffy gingerly climbed on, then even more gingerly curled herself around Oz's free arm. "I was scared," she whispered.

"Didn't mean to."

"I know." She kissed his shoulder.

Mercy stood suddenly. "I, uh, find this really uncomfortable and I'm gonna go get adult assistance." She slapped her hands over her mouth. "I can't believe I just said that out loud, but you guys are beautiful and really disturbing." She slapped her hands over mouth again. She swore from behind her fingers.

"Don't worry about it, sweetie," Buffy said kindly, though without looking at Mercy. "It's not your fault. Go on and get someone responsible-ish."

Mercy uncovered her mouth long enough to squeak an, "Kay!" before running for the proverbial hills.

"Guess I still got it," Oz whispered, eyes closed, already exhausted from his brief reentry into consciousness.

"But what will we do if the Marrok wants it?" Buffy asked his shoulder. Oz was already asleep.

Fin[ite]

**Author's Note:**

> One story left.


End file.
